


The Dangers of Flash Flooding

by astrangerenters



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-21
Updated: 2008-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years postgame. Just a day in the life of the world's hardest working sky pirate - losses at the gambling tables, a judge's summons, and a watery rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dangers of Flash Flooding

He tossed the cards down on the table. "I'm out," Balthier grumbled, backing up his chair. The dealer nodded politely, and the other players did nothing at all. He knew the bastard to his left was counting cards, but he'd been booted from this establishment before for daring to accuse someone. He was already down 14,000 gil and didn't need to lose any more to this cheater.

Of course, Balthier was usually in better spirits when he was the one doing the cheating. His remaining gil pieces purchased a nice mind-numbing ale from the bar. He hated Archades. One would think Balfonheim the greatest den of villainy, but the gambling houses in the capital were far worse. But, he mused, the drinks were better.

The Strahl was in rotten shape - some jealous rival had dared to muck about with the engines when he'd docked in Nalbina the week before. He and Fran had all but crashed into the aerodrome in Archades, effectively stranded until Nono could work all the kinks out. Balthier leaned on his elbow, marveling at his poor luck in the skies and at the tables. The thunderclaps outside mirrored his present state of mind all too well.

He felt a familiar set of fingernails rustling his hair then. "Go away, Fran. Leave me to my sorry display, would you?"

His partner clucked her tongue at him. "Lost all your money so quickly?"

Damned Viera always read him like a book. He held out his empty satchel, devoid of gil. "Black hair, embroidered coat. Second table to your left."

"Counting cards?"

Balthier nodded. "You guessed it."

She frowned at him. "I do not like when you stew so. You act as though the world is ending whenever the ship needs repairing."

"How do you know it's not ending, hmm?" he complained, sipping his ale. "That is cataclysmic rain out there."

Fran sighed. "Looks as though we've got some company." He turned on the stool to follow her eye line to a rather drenched looking judge. His armor was going to rust, and that made Balthier the slightest bit happier. What did this fool want?

"Are you the sky pirate Balthier?" the man inquired.

"Depends on who's asking."

"Judge Magister Gabranth, sir."

Fran raised an eyebrow, and Balthier took a long sip of his ale. He looked at the sopping wet judge warily. "Then I'm definitely not the sky pirate Balthier."

"Sir, Judge Magister Gabranth says it is of the utmost importance that you and your companion report to him immediately. I've been given authority to arrest you if you refuse to cooperate." Balthier glanced at Fran, and she twitched her ears in reply.

"Fine," he answered. "Lead the way." He slid from the bar stool with a groan. No airship, no gil and now a meeting with that killjoy. Fortunately, he didn't get terribly wet since the judge had arrived in a shuttle craft, and he and Fran were whisked away to the Royal Palace.

Judge Magister Gabranth was pacing his chambers when they arrived. "Took long enough to find you," Basch muttered once the three of them were left alone.

Balthier smirked. "And good day to you, sir."

The man ignored him, moving to Fran's side. He'd always trusted the Viera more anyhow. With good reason, of course. "I've asked you here because I require your help."

Fran nodded, but her eyes were still suspicious. "What matter is of such great import that you would need two humble sky pirates?"

Basch sighed, leaning heavily on his desk. "We've had reports of flash flooding in the Uplands. I need you to go retrieve some very important persons."

"And you're incapable of sending your own people because?" Balthier inquired, seeing Basch sink further and further into worry. This had to be good.

"Lord Larsa and his two Dalmascan guests were picnicking, and the rain came so suddenly…"

"Wait a moment," Fran interrupted. "Dalmascan guests?"

Basch frowned. "Queen Ashelia and Penelo."

Balthier smiled. No wonder Basch was fretting so. "Picnicking you say?" Larsa and Ashe didn't strike him as the picnicking type. Two royals, a plucky girl, and a secret meeting in the Uplands. The thought of one royal in particular getting drenched amused him greatly.

"Lord Larsa has…" Basch looked uncomfortable. "This meeting today was need to know, which is why I'm trusting you both to keep this quiet. He wishes for Penelo to be his bride, but he needs the Queen to grant her a title, bequeath some lands…"

He waved his hand. Balthier wasn't exactly a stranger to the ways of the Archadian aristocracy. "Yes, yes, the prince and the pauper girl, all very touching. Unfortunately, Fran and I are unable to mount a thrilling flood water rescue."

"Why not?" Basch demanded. It was clear that serving as Larsa's protector was quite a challenge, especially when one's charge departed for secret diplomatic sessions with the Dalmascan Queen.

"The Strahl is being repaired," Fran admitted. "Unless you wish for us to swim to Lord Larsa and his guests…"

Basch considered his options while Balthier helped himself to some fruit the Judge Magister had on a side table. Two drowned royals, one of whom was secretly trysting with a Dalmascan maiden. The Archadian Senate and Dalmascan royal council would fight one another over who got to execute the long-suffering Judge Magister Gabranth for letting this mess happen.

"Her Majesty arrived in her own vessel," Basch said. "I wonder who taught her to fly on her own?"

Balthier shrugged. "Haven't the slightest idea. But you know Ashe. She simply has to do everything herself."

Basch scowled. The man saw himself as caretaker of Emperor and Queen both, even after all these years. "So perhaps you could take the Queen's transport and go find them?"

Heaven forbid Balthier allow an international incident to occur. Especially not when the two potentially drowned royals in question tended to give him safe harbor when he rarely deserved it. "Fran? Shall we mount a rescue before our dear friends are washed away?"

Fran's face was impassive, although Balthier knew she was ready to burst with amusement. "Palace aerodrome?" Basch nodded, and Fran departed to prepare Her Majesty's ship for the rescue operation. Balthier lingered behind.

"So Basch," he teased. "Do you not check weather forecasts before allowing your little Emperor to go wandering about on his own?"

Lord Larsa was eighteen and grown now, and Basch glared at him for being so flippant. "It is flash flood season. I imagine he was smart enough to find higher ground. Are you leaving or not? I've half a dozen ministers banging down my door demanding to see the Emperor." Basch handed him a slip of paper. "This is where they were supposedly lunching."

Balthier tossed aside his orange peel and grabbed the paper. "Ashe will be livid that you sent me in her own ship."

The older man grimaced. "I think she'll be grateful to be out of the rain."

Balthier moved to the chamber door with a grin. "You still disapprove after all this time?"

Basch looked ready to throw something at him. "I will never understand why she is so fond of you."

Balthier chuckled. "Neither will I."

He left Basch to fret in his chambers, joining Fran in the cockpit of Ashe's sleek new ship. "Any idea where they've sequestered themselves?" his partner inquired, flipping switches and readying for departure.

Balthier settled himself in the pilot's seat, biting his tongue to avoid commenting on the fluffy pink seat cushion Ashe had placed in it. "Luckily, they were smart enough to avoid the areas that have probably been washed away completely. Should find them on the hills over here," he explained, handing Fran the paper from Basch.

"I wonder how Penelo is faring," Fran mused aloud. Balthier winced at the thought. The poor girl was probably hoping to be carried away by the current. One could only endure a grumpy Larsa and a grumpy Ashe for so long before contemplating suicide.

The ship was far more intuitive and simple to control than the Strahl. Balthier had hand picked the ship for the new pilot, assuring her that she needed control more than speed. Of course, he could do with a bit of speed now as the torrential rain pelted down on the hull while they flew south. They reached the Uplands within the hour and flew low. The waters weren't as severe as they could have been, but the animals were probably agitated, and he wouldn't wish to be trapped down there on some rock. Another few passes over the area Basch had indicated, and Fran spotted them.

There were using some blanket from the picnic as a tarp, holding it aloft with a sword. Probably the Queen's. Woman wouldn't even use the washroom without taking armaments. He smiled at the sight of them, maneuvering the ship low. Larsa emerged first, soaked from head to toe, and the young man waved enthusiastically at their arrival.

"Fran, keep her steady," Balthier announced, switching control over to her. He moved to the back hatch and opened it. They were low enough to not need a rope ladder, not like Ashe had one. "Good afternoon, Lord Larsa. Fancy a ride?"

Larsa blinked the rain from his eyes and nodded. "I hope you weren't too inconvenienced."

Balthier offered his hand, pulling the young man up and into the vessel. His silk clothing was mud-spattered and destroyed. Balthier was glad that all this mud was being tracked into Ashe's ship and not the Strahl.

Penelo came up next, still in surprisingly good spirits. "Thanks Balthier!" she cried, trying to hug him in thanks. He released her arm, letting her fall to the metal grating on the floor.

"Balthier!" Larsa protested, but Penelo only laughed.

The girl shook out her messy, soaking plaits, dousing him with water anyhow. "Balthier doesn't hug," she said with a laugh. More like he didn't hug filthy people, he thought to himself. The two little lovebirds helped each other up, moving from the entryway and back into one of the private rooms to do Gods knew what until they got back to Archades.

The sky pirate rolled his eyes and held out his hand a third time. "It's a little wet out there, Your Highness!" he called over a rumble of thunder and saw Ashe disengaging her sword from the hill where they'd been stranded. He watched her kick the blanket tent angrily, and he grew impatient holding out his arm for her. "Ashe, let's go already!"

She narrowly avoided taking his head off, tossing her precious bloody sword up into the ship before getting his hand in her death grip. He hauled her up and couldn't avoid laughing hysterically at her as he closed the hatch. Her Majesty's once pretty blue gown was torn and splattered with mud, and he had to admit that it clung to her in some very lovely places.

But she was disgusting, and he kept his hands to himself. Ashe picked up her sword and stomped off to her onboard chamber, and he decided to follow. He called to Fran to head back to the capital, and he knocked on Ashe's door.

"Go away!"

He let himself in and saw her trying to unzip the ruined dress. He decided to be kind and assisted her. She didn't protest as he tugged the zipper down, sliding the straps down off her shoulders. "So, will Larsa and Penelo be having the Archadian wedding of the century or what?"

She was still rather grumpy, letting the dress fall to the floor. "Oh, they'll get their wedding, if only because it's sickening to watch the two of them make eyes at each other while you're trying to negotiate Penelo's future title."

He lounged on the comfortable couch in the bedchamber while she ran a bath in her private washroom. "Young love is so beautiful, shame on you," he called to her as he heard her sink into the tub.

"What would you know about young love?" she snapped back. "I can't get you to commit to anything."

Balthier rose from the couch with a sigh, standing in the doorway while she bathed. "I bought you this ship and taught you to fly it. How is that lacking in commitment?"

She sank beneath the water, a couple bubbles her only reply. He smiled, moving to sit on the floor beside the tub. He ran his fingers through her wet hair when she resurfaced, and she closed her eyes, leaning in to his touch. "I think I got more rain today than Dalmasca has in months."

"You should have seen Basch worrying about you. Like an old mother cockatrice, he is."

Ashe smiled. "He doesn't like me flying my own ship."

"He doesn't like you cutting your own food," he teased while she completed her bath. She wrapped herself in a bathrobe and moved back to her chamber. He grinned as she flopped back on the bed with all the grace of an Adamantoise. Balthier joined her, leaning on an elbow to look down at her. "Larsa and Penelo, they're the marrying kind. Not you and I."

She hit him lightly. "I know."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I can't leave Fran alone for too long, wouldn't want her to get bored and decide to crash us into a building for sport."

"Oh yes," Ashe replied, "Fran's so reckless."

He chuckled and moved from the bed reluctantly. He waited until he got to the door. "I've never seen anything funnier than you, sopping wet from head to toe."

"Go fly my ship, pirate."

Balthier bowed and left her to rest for the remainder of the journey back to the capital. 14,000 gil in the hole and no Strahl, but he supposed it wasn't such a bad day after all.


End file.
